


Feathers Fall in Hoep

by The_Royal_Gourd



Category: Original Work
Genre: Ancient Cities, Fantasy, Gen, Giant animals hailed as gods, I mean sometimes, death because everyone loves a good bit of death, some feelings?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-01 18:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15149228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Royal_Gourd/pseuds/The_Royal_Gourd
Summary: His wings cast shadows that would make you think day is night, his talons rip through flesh like swords through soft clay, his eyes could spot fleeing prey from miles away. He is the Jackal of Buzzards.His eyes close under the soft hands of children, he watches time pass over this beautiful kingdom, he only wants to protect his home. He is Hager.





	Feathers Fall in Hoep

When they find him, they name him Hager, though this is not what they call him. Names are for those you want to know.  
They name him Jackal of buzzards, with curved beak that pierces skull and rends flesh. He may have gotten his name because of his cry, like that of a jackal, but maybe more because of the corpses he can’t help leaving in his wake. He is massive, a monolith that towers over even the tallest humans and blocks out the sun as he flies. The Jackal of buzzards is a guardian, a servant of the Hoep people. He protects merchants as the crawl up and down rivers, fights battles as the Queen commands and watches for enemies lurking in desert sands.  
The Humans tolerate him, or maybe fear him. On good days children stretch up their little hands to pet at Hager’s feathers. Often he hangs around the Hoep Kingdom like a shadow. Too big to fit in any buildings, he sits atop towers or pyramids like a great statue.  
Hager is the only one of his distinct kind, though other enormous animals like him exist. One of them lies downriver from Hoep, in Kemet. He calls himself the Lizard King.  
When they finally meet, the Lizard King does not bat an eye at the Jackal of buzzards. Hager thinks the swirling dust kicked up by his wings must sting, but does not mention it, simply bobs his head in greeting.  
The Lizard King cracks a wide mouthed grin, standing casually on the outskirts of his kingdom, he watches a group of young humans play a ball game in the road. He says, “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be looking after your fledglings? I hear trouble is coming down the White River Moeb.”  
The Jackal of buzzards takes flight, scrambling to get home before the invaders come. the Lizard King grins wide as Jackal of buzzards speeds towards the river.  
Hager starts to suspect something when he arrives in the capital, the long flight giving him time to think. He should be wary of advice given by strangers. Still, he had rushed off so quickly at the warning. For now the Jackal of buzzard flies up the river to see what he might see. It takes days for him to be sure, the Jackal of buzzards swooping along the White River Moeb, searching for invaders.  
They do not come.  
The Jackal of buzzards lands before the Lizard King with a thump. Dust kicks up, his feathers stand on end, his eyes are narrow. “What is the meaning of this lie you have told me?” His claws rake across the sandy ground.  
The Lizard King is lounging on the edge of the Greater River Moeb, him and a young boy are occupied with a game of small ivory pieces. Others like the boy stand in the tent with food or fans or drink. The Lizard King does not look up from the game. “It was amusing,” he says, smile stretching wide and turning his eyes lazy. “You hurried off so quickly, like a distressed hen shedding her feathers. Quite a sight!” When the Lizard King laughs it sounds like hissing.  
Hager sinks into his neck feathers, a joke. Of course. He does not linger before the Lizard King, he takes flight.  
Hager sits outside his kingdom, crushed between rocks on a small and well hidden crag. His nest here is small and very, very old. Hager thinks of when he was small, when he fit on this well hidden crag. He thinks of the Lizard King, smirking, surrounded by people ready to wait on him. He cocks his head, sharp eyes narrow on tiny animals as they skitter about the desert. They are small. Insignificant. His great wings grind and scrape against rocky wall, the sound echoes in the quiet. In these rocks he is not the Jackal of buzzards, he is simply Hager.  
One day he watches the Lizard King ride an ornate boat languidly up the River Moeb. His boat is real wood, painted in red and blue and decorated opulently in gold. The Lizard King is fed a plum and in turn feeds one to a boy. Claws are soft as they run down the boys side. Hager can tell because no red marks are left in their wake. Something cold and bitter begins to build in his breast. Later, when he preens, he plucks away too many feathers.  
The Jackal of buzzards is watching after a reed boat delivering Ivory to Kemet, this particular boat is captained by Aziza, a human merchant who keeps track of merchant affairs, and one of few who talks to him. Aziza is rich enough to hire a captain, but often heads out with her ships, claiming she needs the adventure to keep from wasting away with boredom.   
The Jackal of buzzards stays close to the river bank, wary of the hippopotami and alligators who pose a threat. Already he has chased away a herd. He circles now and again, searching for hidden danger.   
A sharp laugh draws his attention to the bank.  
The Lizard King lays just ahead, a boy napping on his chest. Hager falters, dropping when his wings jerk mid-beat. His claws skip across the earth before he regains balance.  
“Don’t drop into the Moeb now! Wouldn’t want those hen feathers getting even more ruffled,” the Lizard King says. His shoulders shake as he laughs.  
The Jackal of buzzards turns away pointedly, focusing on the river.  
“Oh don’t be like that, it’s funny! You do know how to laugh don’t you?” The Lizard King tangles his claws into the boy’s hair.   
Why is that what Hager notices?  
Finally he leaves the Lizard King behind, Hager swears he can feel eyes burning into his back as he goes. That night he plucks a bald spot high on his ribs.  
It is neither a particularly hot day, nor a cool one when Aziza comes to talk about merchants from Kemet. The Jackal of buzzards is perched on a square watchtower. He is busy gazing over the flat roofs of the square brick buildings that populate Hoep, making a game of spotting brightly coloured linen flapping in doorways.  
Aziza’s stride is long as she approaches the Jackal of buzzards, nodding when he flies down to meet her. ”Merchants from Kemet are coming to discuss a rather large trade they wish to make, you must pay special attention, for these merchants are especially heavy with good bronze I wish to barter from them as easily as possible.” Aziza smiles, a sly little thing. “Their journey must be pleasant so they are agreeable in negotiations.”   
Hager dips into a bow. “Of course.”  
“Are you doing well?” Aziza’s eyes flicker around Hager’s body.  
He curls his wings in tight. “I am not unwell.”  
“That is not what I asked,” she says, Aziza’s lips pinch into a thin line and her hands twitch at her sides. “I saw you fly up and down the White Moeb when there was nothing to be found. Should I be worried?”  
“You are not in danger.”  
Aziza crosses her arms, Hager’s feathers ruffle up at the neck, he sinks into the fluffy mess.  
“Still not what I have asked.”  
“Your concern is unneeded. I am Jackal of buzzards. As long as I do my duty, I am fine.”  
Aziza sighs, her arms drop to her sides. “Perhaps-” she pauses- “a little more concern is needed.”   
Hager bows, wings flaring out behind him. “Thank you for telling me of the merchants, I will watch for them.”  
“Of course.” Her hands twist together.  
Hager hesitates, flutters his wings against his sides, hops just that bit closer. He leans forwards, offering. “Thank you, Aziza.”  
Aziza smiles, the corner of her eyes crinkle. She reaches out a hand to stroke his feathers, her fingers are warm. Hager’s eyes fall shut, and he turns his head into her strokes.  
Her hands are bigger than they used to be.   
Hager lets out a gusty little sigh. He opens his eyes and hops back, readying himself for flight. A few feathers shake free as he takes off. Aziza shields her eyes and squints after Hager as he goes.  
The Kemet merchants arrive easily. They trade and feast and make deals with Aziza and others in rooms furnished lavishly in gold and wood and linen. The Jackal of buzzards watches and waits. He keeps his sharp eyes trained on his kingdom. He makes himself stay slow and careful when he preens.  
A boat goes out, Aziza and her boat hands pushing their way down the river Moeb. Before they leave Aziza gives Hager a smile he cannot decipher and says, “we will talk when we get back.”  
The Jackal of buzzards leads the boat. As they draw nearer to Kemet he sees the Lizard King lounging by the shores, under a silk tent as he often does. The Jackal of buzzards stays focused on the river.  
Not long after Aziza and her crew has passed the Lizard King- why must he always lounge by the Moeb?- Hager hears a cry and the guttural sound of a hippopotamus on attack. The sound comes from behind their little procession, and the Jackal of buzzards makes a sharp sweeping turn back up river.  
A hippopotamus has it’s jaws clamped around the Lizard King, silk tent overturned in the struggle. The Jackal of buzzards swoops down flaring his wings and screeching. He rears, battering at the Hippopotamus with his wings. The Lizard King struggles in the beasts jaws, but soon enough a cry bubbles from his mouth. No, not a cry. Hager stumbles back.. The Lizard King is laughing, hanging still from the Hippopotamus’ mouth. “The look on you face! Like a chicken, a startled chicken!”  
Hager clacks his beak, grinding, flares his wings wide, and tall. “That is enough-” he bites at the air- “You distract me from important work!”  
The Lizard King says something in return, but Hager is already taking off downriver. Are the screams he hears real or his worst nightmare?  
It is both.  
He bolts down the river, the screams grow louder. It is not long before he has caught up to the human’s vessel. A hippopotamus bites into a screaming human that goes limp in seconds. Not Aziza. The Jackal of buzzards arches his wings, and dives. Claws reach and tear at the beasts eyes.  
When it has finally fled, Hager bears witness to the carnage. The reed boat is crushed against the shore, huge chunks floating off down the river. Huge chunks of something red and meaty also float down the river but Hager does not focus on them. Instead he counts the humans, three stand shaking on the shore. One of the Humans has an arm wound that leaks blood, the droplets fall from his fingers, pattering softly against the ground.  
None of the humans are Aziza. Hager does not search the wreckage, does not look towards the bloody chunks slipping far downstream. Cannot.  
He recoils, head ducked in wings. The feathers of his chest ruffle with ragged breath. His ribs turn mountains and molehills. Hager’s heart beats to bursting, to ripping, his sharp vision is too sharp, he sees too much.  
It is too far, too much. His humans freeze as the Jackal of buzzards lets out a great screeching cry. His wings rake the ground as he takes off, talons tossing rocks. The Lizard King will pay for his heedless arrogance. It is one thing to make Hager a fool, it is another to hurt his- to kill-   
The Lizard King is just where Hager left him, still baring a toothy grin. He does not know what he has done, the Lizard King does not consider who he might hurt. He does not know what it is to be small, to suffer, to regret. He does not know it, but he will.  
The Jackal of Buzzards cries long and loud, grating, as he descends upon the Lizard King. The Lizard King swipes and snaps but the Jackal of buzzards clenches his arms between sharp talons. He beats his wings against the Lizard King. He jabs his beak furiously at any soft spots he can manage. The weight of him send the Lizard King tumbling back and into the dirt, hissing and spitting. Blood begins to fleck before the Jackal of buzzards’ eyes as he tears between scales. An eye rips free from the Lizard King’s skull. There is a scream. Blood pours from the socket, and triumph bubbles within the Jackal of buzzards’ breast.  
At the cry the humans seem to be thrown into action. Triumph does not last long as they swell forwards with spears and knives. The Jackal of buzzards beats his wings, sharp blades meet his flesh. He doesn’t even notice drawing away from the Lizard king. He skitters on thin legs and darts towards the humans. Pulls tendons from their soft necks. The Lizard King still lives and nothing else matters. He sees the blood of his enemies and the Lizard King’s face, twisted and ugly. The Jackal of buzzards does not stop. He does not stop until the red of his vision matches the red of the ground. Red is retribution.  
The Lizard King drips blood on all fours. The canyons of his face scream fury, brow furrowed low, bloody teeth clenched and bared. He is surrounded by humans. The humans are not well.  
All at once Hager sees the corpses strewn across the ground like broken sticks.  
There is blood, his blood, the Lizard King’s blood, but most of all the humans’ blood. So much, it seems it could not all be theirs, but still it seeps sluggishly from their corpses. Hager lurches back, suddenly too close to all these dead humans. Young. All the ones with the Lizard King are young, only just hatched. The Lizard King staggers forwards to clutch the nearest body, his claws pet through the boys hair leaving shining red streaks. The Lizard King holds this human and looks delicate like fine silk; small, for all that he is larger than any of the bodies there. He folds, linen shoved off a table. He hangs over the body, creases ironed into his eyes, mouth a ripped seam. Hager takes wing, does not dare look back as he flies home.  
The desert reaches far into the horizon. His desolation does not bring Aziza back.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeeehaaaaaaw. This is a un beta'd work kids. Can you tell???? Hahahahahahahaaaa
> 
> so this is my end of the term project from creative writing. About my son. I love him. I hope you all love him too. Also just as a fun bonus I based the Kingdoms of Kemet and Hoep on Ancient Egypt and the Kush Kingdom yay! I tried really hard to map out the two places well enough so everyone understands what's going on at all times, if anything is confusing please let me know!
> 
> Also so everyone Knows, Hager is a Jackal Buzzard a type of buzzard that usually hails from more the southern part of Africa (but shhh don't tell anyone) and The Lizard King is the Egyptian Mastigure or Egyptian spiny-tailed Lizard. He was Originally modeled after a Bearded dragon but I changed it to be more appropriate to the area he rules.
> 
> So yeah! Thanks for reading!


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